


Stare

by plutosrose



Category: Hemlock Grove
Genre: Gen, Miranda is creeped out, Missing Scene, roman is creepy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:54:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24112369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutosrose/pseuds/plutosrose
Summary: One night, Miranda tries to run.
Kudos: 5





	Stare

“You don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Miranda has spent enough time around the mansion - Roman calls it a ‘house’, but it’s at least twice the size of any house she’s ever been in - to know, deep in her bones, that she has to be anywhere but here. 

When Roman is at work, the house almost seems to breathe on its own - secrets beating through its walls. The walls might be thick, they might even be soundproof, but it’s hard for her to sit still for any period of time without feeling the creeping sense that makes her feel as though danger is looming around every corner.

It’s even harder for her to quash that feeling of danger when Roman is home, because her host has a habit of standing so quietly in a room that she barely notices him, until he is standing in front of her. Watching.

So one night, she made up her mind - that she was going to leave. She didn’t care what condition her car was in. Hell, even if her car was completely wrecked, with no hope of saving it beyond shelling out for parts that were worth more money than the car itself, she would find a way to leave Hemlock Grove. She would hitch hike. She’d walk if she had to too, and she wouldn’t stop.

“I do,” Miranda says - the way that Roman is looking at her now makes her feel like there is something crawling underneath her skin. “I called for a cab, actually, it should be here in about ten minutes or so.” 

As soon as the words left her, she was beginning to kick herself for not actually calling a cab. Maybe it was because every time she planned this out in her head, a taxi ride away from Roman didn’t quite seem as though it could possibly be fast enough. 

Plus, if she headed out the door, broke into a run, and went through the woods, she could be miles away before Roman was able to track her down, she thought.

Or would he actually do that? Now, she felt like her brain was mixing the actual plan that she had come up with along with the dreams that she’d had - dreams that she’d tried to shove to the back of her mind when she drew - where Roman was inhumanely fast, inhumanely strong, and would never let her leave Hemlock Grove alive.

“You didn’t call for a cab,” Roman says suddenly. In that moment, Miranda has to wonder if he’s ever blinked in the time that she’s stayed at his house, because she certainly can remember nothing but that unending stare.

“And you don’t have anywhere else to go,” Roman adds, taking a step closer to her. She takes one back instinctively. 

“I do,” Miranda counters, “I got a room at a motel.”

This possibility had crossed her mind, but had been ruled out as a possibility because the Godfrey name was plastered everywhere around Hemlock Grove. She could imagine running to a motel - maybe the one that she’d passed on the interstate - only to learn that Roman owned it and used it to launder money or something, because what the hell did an 18-year-old CEO even do?

“No you didn’t,” Roman says, and this time when Miranda steps backward, her knees hit the couch - the one that she’s certain is worth more than the house that she grew up in back in Maine - and she sinks down into it. 

She stares up at him. “I do. Cab will be here in eight minutes or so, I think. I’m really grateful for your hospitality, but I really do have to go.”

Roman leans in now, towering over her in a way that makes her feel inexplicably as though she is in the jaws of a predatory creature. He reaches out to touch her, and she shudders involuntarily as he tilts her chin up toward her.

The sensation of something crawling under her skin only gets stronger as she finally meets him in the eyes. “Roman, I---”

“--You’re staying,” he looks so deeply into her eyes that Miranda is confident that he can see every memory that she’s ever had, including the ones that are buried deep in her subconscious. “Anything you packed, you’re going to unpack. And you’re not going to leave until I tell you to.”

The visions of running along the highway, of calling a taxi, or even settling into a motel somewhere outside of Hemlock Grove start to drift away. She blinks up at Roman, because only a few seconds later, she cannot remember why she was down in the living room or what she was talking about with him a few seconds ago.

In fact, the more that she tries to remember, the more that the memories drift further away, out of reach completely until it feels vaguely like she might have been dreaming. 

“I hope you don’t mind if I stay longer,” she finds herself saying. “At least until my car’s repaired.” 

Roman smiles at her - a rare thing, something that she feels the sudden urge to cling to as tightly as possible.

“Of course not. You’re welcome as long as you like.”


End file.
